2010-07-23 - Il Palazzo Incantato
:Greece :Somewhere *ring ring* *ring ring* *ring ring* *beep* "How unfortunate. It seems I just missed you, hm? Your friend, Ms. Reincam, is doing well. However, she seems to be experiencing some noticeable surface symptoms of metatron exposure. It doesn't seem to have impacted her psychologically, but I've insisted she stay a few more days in order to be sure. I hope you don't mind. "Oh, and I have some information that I'd like to go over with you. It's rather sensitive, so I'll be requiring your radiant presence here. This time, you really should take the time to stay a few days, and enjoy yourself. The view here is simply superb." Withdrawing his cellphone from his ear, Leonard Testarossa turns it off with the faintest of clicks. His hair blows in the errant wind as he looks with some wry amusement at the long, jagged black scar that carves a glassy path through the otherwise pristine beaches he stands on. "I suppose it'll be time to move, soon." :. . . 'Mister Silver's' estate is nothing if not grand. Currently sitting in a comfortable chair poolside, Leonard Testarossa seems to be taking his time to enjoy the stiff breeze that contrasts wonderfully with the bright sun above. It's a beautiful day. And Leonard seems to be content to simply enjoy it, not a worry in the world. Two martini glasses, half full, rest beside the young man as he places his pale fingers on a simple, manilla envelope. He doesn't bother to open it; he already knows what the information says. It's for someone else's eyes anyway, after all. :A DAY AGO :ATHENS, GREECE :22:04 HOURS Fable sits in a busy night club in the heart of Athens. This is her third drink. :22:35 HOURS Fable's fifth drink is poured. The club is busier. :23:13 HOURS Fable Ardross hits the dance floor and makes several new friends. :23:44 HOURS Seventh drink. Fable has made her way onto the stage, where she has taken to hanging off the club DJ. His expression is 'uncomfortable.' :00:20 HOURS The entire club makes horrified faces as Fable Ardross tries to play the turntables for the first time. :00:25 HOURS Fable is kicked out of the club. :00:52 HOURS AND ON Fable can't remember a thing. :THE NEXT DAY :ATHENS, GREECE In a large, exquisite hotel room, Fable Ardross wakes up on the floor. The room is a mess, bed sheets strewn about the center and a nightstand knocked is propped up against the door, wedging it in place. Still wearing her black cocktail dress with her hair a mess, she finds herself rather uncomfortable crook in her neck. When she manages to finally peel herself off the plush carpet, she finds that she used a half-empty bottle of Neo-Absolut as a pillow. "Damn," the BAHRAM Frame Runner horsely grunts, rubbing at her face. Looking around, she wonders the obvious: "What happened last night? I don't remember this room. Where am I? Am I in Hong Kong again..?" Confused, Fable goes to take a shower. That's when her phone rings. A few minutes later Fable screams and slams the door behind her as she exits. The sound of a tiger hissing and growling can be heard on the other side of the door. :NOW One quick plane ride and several hours later, a fresh-faced (and mildly-hung over) Fable Ardross enters Mister Silver's grand island estate. Led to the poolside by one of his many on-hand servants, there's an appreciative whistle from the woman as she arrives. Sadly, she's still wearing her cute little black cocktail dress from the night before, but who would know that?? "Wooguh, sorry I am late," the woman apologies, plopping into the adjacent seat by Leonard with a heavy exhale. Lifting a hand to her forehead, the woman rubs at her eyes a bit before she mutters, "Didn't get your call until a bit after you left it--" :A FEW HOURS AGO Room service finally manages to subdue the tiger. Fable cries over her half-chewed up pink cellular. :PRESENTLY "Hmm, what did you want to talk about? Or are you desperate for /real/ feminine company? I know Sovi's kind of a wet rag, you know?" A hand waves dismissively. "She's all about 'military this' and 'military that.' /Definitely/ not woman material...yet, anyway." Fable smirks to herself as she waits Leonard's response. "Mister Silver, your guest has arrived." Steel gray eyes lift to dimly regard Fable Ardross as she is led across stone flooring to the table, Leonard Testarossa offers his employee the faintest nod of his head. "That'll do," he offers. "You can leave the two of us." A stiff bow later, the servant is leaving with the faint sound of a shutting door. The silver-haired youth offers the Martian woman a distantly amused smile as she makes herself comfortable. "Oh, no need to apologize. A nice choice in dress, by the way," he says, taking a martini glass and lifting it to his lips. He pauses there, before adding, almost wonderingly: "I'm sure you had quite a bit occupying your time." As Fable talks, Leonard sips. He listens, his lips tugging upward into a sly sort of smile at her words. "Ms. Reincam is a very professional woman. It's an admirable quality to have, though I've always found I have more admiration for the people who unabashedly pursue their desires." Glass set down, 'Mister Silver' slides the other one across; his expression is perhaps a little teasing as he tilts his head towards Fable. "Care for a drink?" Eventually, Leonard's hand drifts back toward his manilla envelope. Desperate? "Would you think less of me if I said yes?" he asks, seeming almost entirely serious-- --until he slides that envelope toward the blonde. "While I would love to say I asked you here to enjoy your company, I'm afraid it wouldn't be entirely truthful. I called you here for business." He lets his steel gray eyes drift to that envelope. "That's the analysis from the test. Would you like to know how well you performed?" Watching as Mister Silver's servant meanders off to wherever his servants go, Fable seems mildly amused by the decadence he surrounds himself in. Only after they vanish behind the door from whence they came does Fable lean back in her chair and fold her arms up behind her head before stretching her legs out. "Ahhhh, a girl could get used to this," she notes, her tone airy and delighted as she basks in the warm afternoon sun. Tilting her head back, a hand reaches up to shield her eyes from the brilliant sun overhead as she looks to the skies. "The air, the endlessly blue skies--" A compliment! "Oh, what? /This/ old thing?" Fable notes, giving the square-shaped cut of the dipping hemline on her chest an errant tug. "Why, this was just lying at the back of my closet! This is /nothing/!" A pause falls over the Martian as she turns her gaze aside, regarding Leonard from the corner of her eye before she notes, a touch quieter, "Thanks, though." Talk of Sovi just earns him a faint groan as Fable sinks a bit into her chair, arms folding behind her head once again. "I /guess/. Seems kind of boring to live like that. I'm trying to get her to loosen up a bit, but." Shrugging, she just makes the universal 'what can you do?' motion. But when talk comes to people who 'unabashedly pursue their desires,' Fable all but glows. "I know, aren't they great~?" she wonders. Then--a drink is pushed her way. :AN HOUR AGO Fable grabs the nearest barf bag on her flight from Athens. Neo-Vodka burns just as bad coming up as it does going down. :PRESENTLY "N-no, but thank you," she replies, awkwardly grinning before she looks toward the pool. When he asks if she'd think any less of him, Fable turns her attention toward him from her peripheral again. This guy is way too smooth for someone his seeming age. Why on Earth is-- The manila envelope gets her attention instantly. Fable just arrogantly grins. "Ahh, of course, but I'd much rather enjoy it if you told me how I completely and utterly destroyed all previous testers' scores or blew your mind with my impeccable talent and unquantifiable skills, Mister Silver." Leaning a bit further back in her chair, Fable folds her legs at the ankles before she gestures. "It's okay, I have plenty of time." "I'm glad it suits your tastes," Leonard says as he leans back comfortably in his seat. Rolling his sleeves up gradually toward his elbows, he lets his eyes roll in the direction of the island's beaches. "Though I have been considering a change in scenery." :Before Leonard Testarossa stares dispassionately at a periodical Lee Fowler has handed to him. On it is a blurry image of something that looks like a winged cocoon. The headline reads: :MOTHRA LIVES -- AND IS VACATIONING IN GREECE?! Leonard's lips purse together. "Well, it certainly is a snappy title, at least." :Now A small smile touches on the young man's lips at Fable's words. On Sovi, he tilts his head to the side, a brow arching as he regards Fable. "Have you?" he asks, curiously, before he turns his attention back toward casually sweeping up his drink. "She must be grateful to have a friend like you." But, there is business to be had. And as Fable grins, Leonard returns it the flash of one of his devilish own, pearly white teeth exposed for the briefest of moments before he lifts his glass back to his lips. "Should I regale you, then?" he asks softly, before draining another sip of his martini. "Your results were much higher than the standard. Just as much as I would have thought. Your ability to concentrate on long-distance targets and calculate a precise firing point is impeccable." His glass lifts, as if in a one-man toast as he focuses a most charming smile on his companion. "As expected, it seems like you were crafted for war, Fable," he compliments. "Your skill is enviable, but not as much as your potential. Like poetry in motion. It's easy to see the passion in your art -- and in your drive." A pause. Leonard lets this sink in, before: "What the test was meant to determine was your capacity to concentrate and your overall potential. We need to take these examinations to determine just how well our pilots can function with the Lambda Driver. You remember, don't you?" The Arm Slaves she fought in those simulations. The power they used. "Pft, a change? Why? This is perfect. It reminds me of Elysium Peninsula back home. Ahh, I miss those artificial beaches, the sands--but, sadly, nothing beats Earth when it comes to getting the perfect tan." Exhaling in what sounds like sheer disappointment, Fable just sinks a bit further into her chair...before sitting up sharply. "But, hey, if you like you could visit Mars! And if you /need/ someone to, I dunno, house sit, I could do that for you!" :WHAT COULD BE Fable sits in a bikini poolside sunning while ten cabana boys fan her and wait on her hand and foot. :WHAT REALLY IS Smiling to herself, Fable's eyes just fix on the pool. However, when he speaks kindly of Sovi, Fable lets a soft 'hmph' slip past her glossy lips. "Friend like me? Hah, as if!" What? "She's no friend, Mister Silver." Letting her lips curl into a devious grin, Fable's blue eyes are alight as she says, "She's my rival. Everything she does I can do even /better/--and I do. I have to keep that up, you know. I can't let her surpass me. If she gets better, /I/ have to. I refuse to let myself ever be beaten and bested by Reincam." Settling her thin shoulders against her chair, Fable's gaze slowly drifts from Leonard toward the lapping waters of the extravagant pool. An odd silence hangs over her. A moment after, Fable exhales with a lazy smirk, eyes drawing shut. "I guess she /should/ be grateful I have chosen her as my rival. I'd like to think it's made her get better as a Frame Runner. Well, until..." Gesturing idly, she presumes he's more than aware of Sovi's circumstances regarding Third Impact. But the subject shifts, and it's back on Fable. She's instantly turned in her chair to face him. "Ah, of course~!" Fable chimes, her sunkissed face aglow before she turns to sink arrogantly into the comfort of her pool side chair. "I hope you weren't /too/ surprised, Mister Silver. I know, I know--it's very impressive, but it should have been expected." He continues, and Fable turns a shade of soft pink in the face as she coyly lifts her hands to her cheeks. "Oh you flatter me so well~! Crafted for war? Ahhh!" she all but squeaks, CLEARLY eating up every little compliment. But then-- Examinations..? "WAIT a second," Like the shifting winds, Fable's expression is suddenly dour as she turns sharply to stare at Leonard. "'Examinations..?'" Her brow twitches, lips pulled flat across her face as she wonders, grimly, "Who is going to conduct these? It's not.../him/...is it..?? The...that..." Clenching her hands against the arm rest of the chair, Fable's shoulders visibly shudder as she tries to say it without throwing up in rage: "G...G... that horrible ...fff... Gates!" In rage, Fable reaches for the previously offered martini and downs it in a single gulp. "Consider it an unfortunate necessity," Leonard says in a most lamentable tone, his fingertip tracing the edge of his glass in an idle gesture. "I hear the Elysium Peninsula is a beautiful place, but I think I'll be moving someplace a little closer to the Pacific next. I have a quaint little piece of property off the coast there, you should consider visiting sometime." Leonard pointedly does not expand whether he means for business or otherwise. Her next words bring a curious stare leveled upon the Martian. Those fingertips stop at the left edge of his glass' rim as he idly cants his head toward his right. "Is that so?" A rival? Then perhaps that choice was even better than he anticipated-- "It's important to have people to stand against and compete with. You're quite lucky. But if that's the case..." Leonard's gaze drifts, a thoughtful smile dancing at his lips. "... Then you'll be happy to know she'll be joining us as well. Part-time, of course." And on Leonard's schedule. But-- Things that always cause people to thrive is the prospect of competition. The idea of being surpassed... or beat out. Leonard's gaze drifts. The area is peaceful, quiet. Serene. There hardly seems to be anything or anyone out here, out beyond the estate, beyond Fable and her host. This may, of course, be because the estates' sentries are all masked by the cover of ECS. 'Mister Silver' shuts his eyes, hands resting easily in his lap. "I'd say I was more pleasantly surprised; you exceeded my expectations. But then again... I wouldn't have looked for you if I didn't think you were capable of greatness." But then -- Leonard's left eye cracks open as Fable's voice suddenly falters flat. His brows furrow, lips purse together. Who is going to conduct-- oh. "He didn't tell you he was qualified to examine you, did he?" he asks, wonderingly. Before he adds, as if in a small, late warning: "Because he is not actually a doctor, you know." Leonard lets the necessary seconds pass to sink this in, before he continues on fluidly, the faintest hint of mischievious amusement tinging his voice at the sight of Fable downing that alcoholic beverage like a ravenous beast. "No; the first examination was already completed with that test fight. Monitoring your brainwave patterns during a combat scenario is an integral part of determining your qualifications. I'll be conducting a follow-up examination," he skips a beat here, "unless you'd rather Mr. Kalium did, that is." Leonard considers this. And then, as if from no where in particular, he asks: "So, you like this place, do you?" "Closer to the Pacific?" Fable blinks twice, her expression visibly shifting. Confused, she further wonders, "What's wrong with this place? I mean, you're on an island. I can't imagine that you get much traffic here." Obviously, someone hasn't seen the massive scar in the landscape...yet. Shrugging her shoulders, the blonde just smirks as she exhales and shakes her head. "Well, that's a real shame. I quite enjoy having a legitimate excuse to wander to one of the few refuges this awful planet has. Ah well! I imagine the other place is even /better/. I can't wait to see it!" Yes, she just invited herself. There's nothing you can do about it, Leonard. Well, except maybe have a roboguard strangle her like some kind of Chinese lesbian twin. But anyway. "Mm-hm," she notes, nodding her head as he speaks of the other Martian Runner. "Not only that," Fable notes. "It also makes you look /even better/." The latter of the silver-haired man's words actually give Fable reason to pause, blue eyes blinking slowly before she gently tilts her head and turns her gaze onto him. She joined..? "Good!" Fable, perhaps unexpectedly, chirps. Lifting her arms and kicking her feet out, she offers a huge, smug grin as she settles deeper into the chair. "I was worried I might have to do something like...'balance responsibilities' between this and BAHRAM. This makes it much easier--and I'm all about convenience!" Angry? No. Jealous? Maybe just a little. "Ah, this means I have to actually work harder though!" Then, Fable FLIPS OUT ABOUT GATES. Setting her glass down with a burdened pout, the blonde acknowledges Leonard with her gaze. "Of /course/ he did!" she exclaims, gesturing her hands excitedly. "And TRUST ME I found that out." Recoiling from the younger man with a dramatic pout, Fable's hand presses to her collar as she laments, "He tried to take advantage of my vulnerability! Can you believe it? My purity! My dignity!" She relaxes a bit, however, scoffing. "Well, as long as he's not involved, that's fine with me. I'm not sure what all this 'brainwave pattern' mumbo-jumbo is, but if you're /that/ keen on being impressed by me, I won't /dare/ stop you." Fable skips a bit. "NO." is her simple answer. "The further I am from him, /the better/." "Don't worry, I don't believe you're his type," Leonard contemplates. "Though he does have quite a few." Leonard continues this way, his tone impossibly casual despite his station. The way he carries himself is like how one might with a friend, or an acquaintance -- but certainly not a subordinate or employee. A light chuckle follows his commentary, his hand waving dismissively. "In any case, I wouldn't worry about it. Since you fall under my jurisdiction, he'll probably know better than to do anything untoward." 'Untoward' in this case possibly being 'stab Fable to death with a knife he is wielding with his teeth.' And just as seamlessly as before, he moves on to business, pushing up out of his seat to wander toward the pool's edge. "The Lambda Driver is an invention of mine," the 'mine,' for some reason, sounds faintly sarcastic, but the underlying tone is almost indistinguishable at best. "It functions by using a specific brainwave pattern of the pilot in order to manifest whatever physical phenomenon they envision -- in other words, it's a device that can mold or even reject the physics of the natural world." Right hand slipping into his pocket, the be-vested Mister Silver tilts his head back, looking towards Fable. "I'm sure you know of a man name 'Gauron,' don't you? The Arm Slave he piloted, I believe most people referred to it as "Venom" -- that was the Plan 1056 Codarl, my first Arm Slave design to house a Lambda Driver. The ones you fought in the simulation were a refinement on that design. What these tests are meant for... are to see if you are qualified to use that technology." Leonard falls silent. Five seconds later, his shoulders lift and roll in an easy, non-committal shrug. "Not that I believe there is any doubt you'll be qualified, of course. You have an insatiable passion that can't be rivaled." He turns on his heel then, back facing the sun as he offers up Fable a gentle smile. "If you would like to have a legitimate excuse to wander one of the few refuges this planet has, you only need to ask." His left hand lifts, sweeping outward as if to display the entire island. "If you want this, it's yours." His gaze is level. Though smiling, his expression never waivers. He stands calm, self-assured. He looks entirely serious. "What do you think?" "Well /thank god/," Fable notes, her tone genuinely relieved as she sighs. "That guy..." She doesn't even need to finish her thoughts. The expression on her face--the twist of her lips and wrinkle of her nose--the way she briefly cringes is evidence enough. She loathes that unpredictable and eccentric freak. Loathes and fears him. Yet, when 'Mister Silver' assures that she's under /his/ jurisdiction, Fable expression of disgust melts away, lips curling into a playful smile as he wanders to the pool. "Ah, you always look out for me!" she chimes, pressing her hands together before pressing them to her chest. "You really are a gentleman! Such a rare breed of man!" Young, but..! Lambda Drivers. Blinking with muted disbelief, Fable's expression seems slightly skeptical that /he/ would be behind such technology. He's got to be half her age--as hard as that is for her to admit to herself--how can he possibly create something like that? Something that can /reject/ the natural law of physics? Brainwave patterns? "I know of him," Fable replies, her expression surprisingly calm and stern as she regards the silver-haired man. "You...designed that?" No way. That cannot be true...can it? Is such a machine /really/ capable of doing the things she saw in the simulation..? With a machine like that... Fable Ardross can feel her pulse quicken. "O-of course not," is ultimately her response to his non-committal shrug and comment. Her smirk is faint, almost uneasy--she's caught in her thoughts. But, with one quick pinch of blue eyes shut, she simply washes them away, her lips pulling into a broad grin. She begins to speak-- "What?" If you want this, it's yours. This--this house? This /entire island/?? "Wh..." Fable blinks a few times...before she leans forward in her seat and grabs her stomach. Laughing brightly, the woman obviously thinks it's some rouse, despite the contrary tone his self-assuredness gives him. Rising from her seat, Fable wipes a finger past her watery eye. "Oh, that's a /good/ one! Why would you want to just /give/ up something like this?" A hand gestures across her surroundings before she rests her hands on her hips. "That's what I like about you, you've got a sense of humor beneath all that honey." If he's serious, Fable doesn't seem to be buying it. She half-turns on her heels. "Just let me know when you want me to meet up with whoever is conducting these tests, Mister Silver. I'll be there and I assure I won't disappoint." "Is it hard to believe?" Leonard asks; though his voice is soft, it still carries surprisingly well as he watches Fable, taking in her expression in a subtly scrutinizing gaze. "I don't blame you. I wouldn't believe it if I were the one hearing it." Whether he's talking about the Lambda Driver or his own hand in its creation is debatable, and he doesn't seem to deign to explain which. Instead, he simply turns his head up, regarding the sky. "There are many remarkable things in this world, though." Gray eyes drift downward. Leonard's lips twitch upward. He can see her reaction. He knows. "Once we confirm your abilities and once you've established yourself in the organization, you'll get your chance to use it, as well. It can be difficult to control -- I'll teach you the basics." His hand shifts, stretched toward Fable like an offering. His actual verbal offer remains poignant, the silence stiff as the would-be Desert Queen blinks once, twice -- and then laughs. His expression never falters throughout, his smile impeccable; as if this reaction was just expected. 'Why would you want to just /give/ up something like this?' "Why wouldn't I want to give a woman like you a gift suited to your caliber?" But still, she brushes it off, and Leonard doesn't really try to refute her -- nor does he actually, she may note, agree with her, or admit to joking. Instead, his brows lift as she turns on her heels, his hand falling easily to his side. "Visit again by the end of the week. My assistant, Mr. Fowler, will arrange a date for the next batch of tests. There'll be some paperwork for you to sign, too, in order to make some things official." He turns his back again, pushing errand strands of silver hair behind his ear. "And you can call me Leonard, by the way," he adds, as if absent-mindedly. "Leonard Testarossa. But let's keep that a secret between you and me, hm?" "Because while /I/ think I'd be worth it," Fable counters, grinning broadly as she lifts a finger to her cheek. "I don't quite believe a man like yourself would do such a wonderful thing for a woman he's hardly known." Slowly her hand falls, arm stirring to rest at a crook as she settles her hand on her hip. "Don't get me wrong--the offer, if genuine, is tempting. It's hard for me to /not/ believe you." Exhaling, Fable rolls her shoulders in a shrug, wistfully sighing. "However, I couldn't just take it from you. What fun is it, if you're not around to tell me how amazing I am?" Though she turns, he speaks of details, to which the blonde Martian responds with a grin as blue eyes draw shut. "Very well," she notes. "The end of the week. I'll keep it in mind--but, I assure you, I'll be here." Fashionably late, sure, but she keeps a promise. Turning to leave, her steps are marked by distant clicks of her heels on smooth paved stone-- Until he says his name. Surprised to say the least, Fable glances over her shoulder toward the silver-haired young man, staring at his back as he stares at the horizon. Leonard..? With a soft sigh, the woman offers a lazy sort of smirk. "I like that name," she notes with quiet tones. "It's distinguished. It fits you." Turning her gaze ahead, the woman makes her way toward the door of the grand island manor. "I look forward to learning something new. As much as I love my Beletseri, I should expand my horizons." And if she can /defy/ the natural laws themselves...well. That really /would/ push her skills to new, soaring heights. She'd be untouchable. "Thank you, Leonard." It's probably the first time she's said that to anyone. It could very well be the /only/ time. "And...if you see her, tell Sovi...she has a lot of hard work ahead of her." The smirk is evident in her tone. The soft click of a door punctuates the Martian's departure. Category:Logs